PROMO: "Those Who Forget."

[Guest Kibagami]

PROMO: “Those Who Forget.”

 

Not knowing the strategies of the feudal lords,

One cannot ally with them.

No knowing the form of mountains and forests,

defiles and gorges, marshes and swamps,

One cannot move the army.

 

- Chapter Seven of the Sun-Tzu

 

 

 

 

 

--

 

 

…Silent sits up.

 

”What the FU-“

 

”He FAKED IT!”

 

”He wha- you mean Silent dropped his arms on purpose?!”

 

Raynor’s fans immediately try to warn him of the danger, but Raynor doesn’t notice! He raises his left arm, still tethered to the strap-

 

”Turn around!”

 

A quick, sharp tug of the strap, and Raynor is pulled off the rope, crashing to the mat! Before he can even begin to understand what’s going on, Silent pulls him up to his feet, yanks him in via the strap, and scoops him up-

 

” No, come on! He did the same goddamned thing to Z last wee-“

 

-drops him down while sticking out his knee- SHOULDERBREAKER!

 

”Damnit! Edwin, Z, someone get out here NOW!”

 

A few pieces of garbage have reached the ring… Silent pays them no heed as he slowly climbs to his feet, standing over Raynor… Raynor, who is clutching his right shoulder… who is crying out in pain… who is begging for it to stop…

 

Silent isn’t finished…

 

 

--

 

 

Silent hops off of the cage, landing deftly on his feet next to his fallen opponent…and drags Z to his feet, slings him over his shoulder…and begins to climb again!

 

“What in the blue hell is he doing?” wonders Stevens, as Silent inches closer to the top of the cage. “He’s practically won this match…why is he carrying Z…?” A light dawns in Mark Stevens’ eyes as Silent reaches the top of the cage…and looks down at the announce table.

 

“Mark…um…I think we should move, now.”

 

”Riley, I’m going to have to agree with you there.”

 

The two announcers hurry out of the way as Silent props the bloodied one-letter wonder up on the top of the cage, both men balancing precariously on the edge…

 

“Time for a gut check, boy!” screams Silent as the announcers scurry over to the Spanish announce table, looking in vain for an extra pair of headsets. The Slaughterer’s voice rings out, fifteen feet in the air, high above the crowd in the Kemper Arena…

 

“Do you want to win…or…do you want…to live?”

 

Through blood-encrusted lips, Z mumbles his answer. Only the Silent One hears the whispered words of the one-letter wonder…

 

”I want…to beat you.”

 

“What’s going on up there?” hollers Mark Stevens through his newly acquired headset. “We can’t hear anything…can we get a…oh, no. Oh, my God, no.”

 

Stevens stares, his face pale, as Silent braces his feet against the cage and carefully picks Z up…into position for the Fall From Grace.

 

“There’s no way he can…Silent will kill himself when he falls off the cage, and damn it, he’ll take Alex with him!”

 

“It’s too late to turn back now, Mark! Z knew what he was asking for when he challenged Silent to this match, and I’ll be damned if he’s not about to get it!”

 

With an effort visible from fifteen feet below him, Silent lifts Z above his head. Both men totter dangerously on the edge for a long, long moment…

 

…Before Silent hurls Z from the cage…

 

 

All.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To the ground…

 

 

--

 

 

The blood running down Thoth’s face splashes up upon impact, a drop actually catching on one of the cameras showing Genesis 3 to a live audience at home. The camera angle is quickly switched as the cameraman wipes the blood off, looking at it with disdain. Silent picks Thoth up off the mat and scoops him up, holding him across his shoulder, like Thoth was doing just moments ago. He charges forward, then stopping about four feet in front of the cell wall, heaving Thoth’s 236 pounds like a rock at the cell wall. The wall bulges... but amazingly holds, as Thoth crumples in a heap at the foot of the wall. Silent is nonplussed, going under the ring to grab a steel chair. Spinning it in one hand, getting a feel for the weight, he turns back towards Thoth. He lifts it overhead, and the arena lights reflect off of it for a moment, one single shine before cracking it down across the limp Thoth. His body convulses. Not good enough for the Slaughterer, who slams the chair down again. And again. And again. The crowd screams their hate, their frustration by booing and hissing, trying to be as loud as they can be and get Silent’s attention. The Slaughterer hisses back, dropping the chair, and throwing the limp Thoth back in the ring for the pin. He rolls in himself and hooks the leg hard...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE- And Thoth still gets the arm up!

 

“How... I don’t get it!” says Riley, flabbergasted.

 

“There’s too much at stake for Thoth to lose like this,” repsonds Stevens. “He’s tired, bloody, been beaten with a chair, but the fight is just beginning for him.”

 

… Silent hooks a dragon suplex... and slams Thoth back and neck-first into the cell... it holds, but Silent rolls through and slams another one into the same section of steel mesh, which still amazingly holds! A third dragon suplex... and a fourth... but the cell holds! Silent starts to heave for a fifth, but Thoth gets a Galatea Special of his own with his leg! Silent bends over to stanch the pain, and Thoth scoops him for Riot of the Blood...

 

“He wouldn’t...”

 

“He couldn’t!”

 

He drops him... right on the cage.

 

...

 

...

 

And it gives way…

 

 

--

 

 

Nathan bolts up in his bed, his t-shirt covered in sweat. He stares blankly for a moment, waiting for his surroundings to come back into focus, before wiping a hand across his face and rolling out of bed.

 

The motel room is small – King’s hardly gone out of his way to accommodate the newest ‘addition’ to the SWF roster. Kibagami makes his way to the kitchen – what passes for a kitchen in a cheap motel, at least – and picks up the phone on the counter. Headlights from the freeway just outside momentarily blinds him as he dials.

 

Ring…ring…ring…*click* Hey, I’m not here right now, leave some love and I’ll call you back. *click*

 

“Hey, it’s me. I’m in Georgia right now…I just wanted to call and say hi, see how you’re doing. Things are going…things are going about as well as you’d expect. I’m still getting used to the motels…I have a match against Hearford on Monday night. I’ll be fine, but…I need you to tell Yuuichiro to watch Battleground, and…tell him I might have a problem here. He’ll know what to do. I’ll call you tomorrow…goodbye.”

 

Nathan hangs up the phone and walks back to the bed. He lights himself a cigarette as he pulls a black travel bag up from beside the bed frame. From the bag, he takes three things – a video tape, and his cane.

 

Kibagami dons the headphones, presses play, and turns the volume up as high as it will go. He inserts the tape in the VCR beneath the television – the APW logo is barely visible on the tape’s surface. Nathan reclines on the bed, smoke drifting up towards the ceiling around him, idly twirling his cane in one hand, as the tape begins to play. As it flickers to life, he notices that it’s almost at the end of the recording. But that’s all right.

 

The end is the only part he watches anymore.

 

I can't see the meaning of this life I'm leading

I try to forget you as you forgot me

This time there is nothing left for you to take…

This is goodbye…

 

On the television, the man who would become Edwin MacPhisto takes a steel chair from beneath a bloodied Nathan…

 

“What the hell? Damn it, the match is over!”

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

Summer is miles and miles away

And no one would ask me to stay…

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

“Damn it, Jimmy, you’ve won the match! That’s enough, for God’s sake!”

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

And I should contemplate this change

To ease the pain

And I should step out of the rain,

Turn away…

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

”Jesus Christ, somebody do something!”

 

Close to ending it all, I am drifting through the stages

Of the rapture born within this loss

Thoughts of death inside,

Tear me apart from the core of my soul…

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

“SOMEBODY CALL THE FUCKING PARAMEDICS!”

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

At times the dark's fading slowly

But it never sustains

Would someone watch over me…

In my time of need…

 

 

 

 

 

 

END

[Guest Thoth]

Dude, you gots to get over it, know what I'm saying?

[Guest AnnieEclectic]

Good promo.

 

 

AWAK AWAK AWAK AWAK

 

-Annie

[Guest Ace309]

So wait... wait, wait, wait.

 

You're saying Edwin DID break Silent's neck?

 

Using the DEMONSTAR DRIVER?

 

And finding all that out drove Chris Raynor mildly insane, and long story short, forced Edwin to break HIS neck at Genesis III?

 

Fuck, this is news to me.

[Guest TheAntipop]

This is the greatest piece of modern day literature.

[Guest Crowe]

...

 

That rocked. Seriously, that was a great read, the flashbacks were very well included into the promo, and now I have some idea about things that happened in Silent's past.

 

And with that, I say write another promo.

 

[Guest realitycheck]

Yeah, and I STILL just want to get beat you so I'll get a win that will go down in the goddamn record books, prickface.

 

About as solid as a "review promo" gets. As I mentioned, considering that you were looking for match clippings for flashbacks instead of writing entierly new memories, I'm surprised it gave you as much trouble as it did.

 

-Z

[janusd 0]

And so we learn more about Nathaniel Kibagami / Silent.....muwahaha.

 

You going to pimp more of these? Thou dost have me hooked.

[Guest Dace59]

Now, this is what kids should be reading in English classes at school.

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

OMG U DID NOT HAVE MY PRMISSON 2 USE MY CHARACTER WHO SEZ I BROKE UR NECK ???!?!?!????????

 

U R FAGz0r N IMMA GIVE YOU DATE WITH JAFGGED ROX

[Guest Beezel]

On the other hand, you have my full and complete permission to use the character Edwin MacPhisto as you see fit. If that helps any.